Tilt
by youkai chick supreme
Summary: When Riku tilts Sora's world off-center, what can Sora say to make things right again? Angsty yet fluffy Sori! Oneshot.


A/n: Can you says obsessed? I can. Shonen ai, be warned if you must.

Disclaimer: Just obsessed, not the owner. Go sue someone else, my money is my money, I earned it and you can't have it.

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It was difficult to even breathe yet alone form coherent sentences. He couldn't get the words to emerge from his lips. They lodged in his throat and stuck for good. What was he supposed to do? What was he supposed to say? How could his perfect best friend be thinking, feeling, such imperfect things? He couldn't think straight. This couldn't really be happening.

Yet it was. The seconds rolled on to become minutes and all he could do was stare, trying every so often to say something but failing miserably. His friend just stood, eyes cast to the side, unable to look at the younger, decidedly silent boy. How could he make eye contact after literally ripping the rafters of his heart open, exposing all his gushing feelings, and for what? Just to be rejected. He should have known better.

As time stretched on the elder boy suppressed his sigh, which was comprised mostly of a sob, and began to walk away. Each step was taken slower and slower as if giving the other a chance to stop him. He walked away waiting for a hand to shoot out and grab him. He waited in vain. No hand descended upon his shoulder, no hand reached out to clasp his wrist. His friend didn't want to stop him. His friend probably wasn't even _his friend_ anymore.

The more distance he put between them, the more weight seemed to press down upon the long haired boy. It felt hard to expand his lungs; the simple, involuntary act of breathing now took a conscious effort on his part. It was stifling. Would it always feel this way, now that his feelings were revealed, he wondered. He tried to care, tried to convince himself that that wasn't the case, but his heart wasn't in it. His heart wasn't in much of anything right now.

It hurt, probably more than it should. It hurt him to realize that his friend really didn't care at all, not even enough to try and fix the situation. It felt like the world should have stopped the moment the brunet didn't stop him. The world should have fragmented and dissolved and fallen off axis. Something horrible should have happened outwardly to match the aching he felt inside himself.

But everything went on like normal, just like it always did and just like it always would. The world didn't care how much he hurt inside. Life went on ignoring him as it always had.

He almost laughed, thinking about it. Why should he love me, the boy wondered. No real reason came to mind. It's just the same, he thought, not even love could last forever so it's better to end it now rather than later. He tried to convince himself, but he couldn't believe it whole-heartedly. He really couldn't believe anything whole-heartedly.

Once his feet hit his street he began to speed up. Why delay the obvious? His confession was a mistake, just like his feelings were wrong, just like his heart was incapable of buoying his body and soul, incapable of getting what it needed to survive. The older boy, on the cusp of manhood really, needed the love of his friend. He needed it. But sometimes it just didn't matter how much you needed something, you still wouldn't get it. And it seemed the boy wasn't going to get any love from the other boy.

As he jumped onto the curb in front of his house he stopped for a second. He tried to slow his rapidly beating heart. He tried to steady his breath. He tried to dry his eyes, in case his parents were up. Then again, they never really noticed him before, why would they start now?

Surprisingly enough, that thought was the thought that cheered him up enough to open the door. As predicted, his house was dark and cold and silent. No one was waiting up for him, no one was worried about him. He turned to close the door, stifling a sigh, but a movement on the sidewalk, caught from the corner of his eye, stopped him.

"Riku…" A soft, breathless voice called out, relieved. Riku momentarily wondered if the brunet would whisper his name like that more often, it sounded nice. He contemplated asking the boy if he would.

In the mean time Riku listlessly made his way back to the sidewalk, taking the time to close his door quietly.

"What do you want Sora?" He whispered, resigned to whatever fate his friend threw upon him.

"I want to be with you. I really do… And I'm sorry I froze up before, but you surprised me. I mean look at you! You're beautiful… Who wouldn't love you?" His voice was soft and hesitant, but clear. Riku blinked, thinking of ways he could misinterpret Sora's words. He couldn't think of any other interpretations no matter how hard he tried.

"Do you love me?" Riku sounded emotionless, as if all his feelings had bled away despite the fact that he wanted to hear "yes" more than he wanted air to breathe.

"I do Riku. I love you." Riku couldn't breath, couldn't blink, couldn't move. Joy welled up in his chest and overflowed down his cheeks as tears. His friend however couldn't tell if Riku was happy or not.

"Ri-Riku, a-" Sora tried to go on, but his words were literally stolen from him as Riku's mouth met his mid-sentence. And God was he good at this whole kissing thing. But Sora kind of figured he would be. Riku was good at everything after all.

"Thank God, thank God." Riku whispered against the brunet's lips, over and over, his own offering to a God he had never really believed in until now.

"I love you so much. I love you so, so much!" the words kept slipping from his lips, but he made no move to stop his babbling. He wasn't so concerned now about looking cool or mature. It didn't matter, Sora mattered more.

"I know Riku, it's ok, I know."

And Riku believed him, just like Riku always believed him.

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End note: Look! Fluff! Okay, super angsty fluff, but fluff nonetheless! And look! Sora is being sweet! That's relatively new! 


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